The Hand in the Garbage



She loved the view from her apartment window. She could see the sun rise and the flowers begin to bloom.  She could see the top of the churches and be mesmerized. It was all good. Nothing could make her feel differently about the world.



The sun and moisture glistened the environment. It was all good.  She would just stare for hours out the window.  The world was her television. She just would take it all in. Her mind was settled.

She marveled at the pretty ornate garbage can. It just stood there with a severed hand in its bag and it didn’t bother her at all. She barely noticed the man that dropped it off as she marveled at the beauty of the world.

She stood still and never blinked. It was all good

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